I am not alone. You are not alone.

First I would like to apologize for my lack in posts. As I began my recovery journey I found it more and more excruciatingly difficult to formulate thoughts and sentences about what exactly it was about my story that I wanted to share. I quickly learned that recovery was going to wear me out like a full time job; emotionally, spiritually, physically and relationally. I also learned that in order to vulnerable with others you must first learn how to be vulnerable and honest with yourself. As I began treatment for my eating disorder I found myself slowly slipping back into deafening silence, but I am finally ready to break that silence. 

Caveat: I wrote this after my first week of treatment in the beginning of February, but had a really hard time sharing it with the world wide web. As I begin writing again and opening up to myself and my family and friends I will continue to fill you in on what my recovery journey has been like so far. So 6 months later, here is blog post number three. Thanks for all the love, encouragement, patience and support while I remained distant. Whether you know it or not it kept me going.

Back in October of 2015 I had my very first experience with a day treatment program. After being mugged in early September I had reached a point in my battle with anxiety and depression that made it clear I was in need of more support than one 50 minute therapy session a week could provide. A week or so later I found myself in a partial hospitalization  program for adults recovering from mental illness and addiction. During my first day at the program I already had my discharge date in mind. Despite knowing that you have to do more than just show up to make any sort of progress in therapy, just showing up seemed to be all I could manage. I had a panic attack on the first day, and the second day, and the third day, etc. Anytime I tried to speak up in group I could feel my cheeks ignite, my breath quicken and my legs start to shake. After a few experiences like that I resorted to coloring and keeping my lips sealed. I made it to treatment everyday for the first week, but by the second week I was down to 2 or 3 days and by the third week I discharged myself. I didn’t invest much of myself into that program, but I learned a valuable lesson about commitment and investment in therapy. I was able to take that experience and learn from it, so I could approach recovery and therapy differently this time around. I tend to be extremely goal oriented and often get way ahead myself which causes me to pressure myself with expectations. My first few days at Renfrew I realized I was in need of a major shift in perspective of the recovery process if I wanted to make the most out of my time there. My unrealistic expectations kept me trapped in my cyclic negative thoughts about myself. 

My first day of treatment at Renfrew went fairly well. It was mostly a day of introductions, tours, familiarizing myself with the other girls and the layout of the day. My emotions were a compilation of anxiety, ambivalence, excitement and dread; but I walked out of those doors at the end of the day knowing and believing that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. Every moment leading up to the one when I stepped into that building for the first time was ordained. I spent the weekend prior to treatment attending a training conference for individual and group crisis intervention and suicide awareness in Pittsburgh which didn’t give me much time or space to build up anticipatory feelings until I got on the bus to go back to Philadelphia Sunday evening. As I sat down on the bus a wave of anxiety and fear crashed down on me and soaked my cheeks as I began to acknowledge what I was going home too. Thankfully I had the seat to my self, but there was a boy about my age sitting across the aisle from me. Right before the bus pulled out he put his hand on my backpack to get my attention. Tears still streaming down my face I was hesitant to look up. As I met his eyes I saw concern and compassion as he looked at me and asked if I was okay. Feeling slightly comforted and mostly embarrassed I tried to reassure him that I was fine and thanked him for asking.  I eased in my headphones in attempt to drown out the voices in my head uttering, “You are alone. You are alone. You are alone.” About two and half hours and a not so fabulous nap later we pulled into the rest stop and I quickly grabbed my purse and bee lined for fresh air. Thirty minutes later I plopped down in my seat and noticed the boy across from me already sitting down. He took out his headphones and leaned across the aisle and asked me, “Are you sure you’re okay? You looked really upset. If there is anything you feel like you want to talk about I’m here to listen.” I gave him an vague and brief description about what was on my mind and he responded by asking if I prayed. I replied yes and he laid his hand on my shoulder and said a simple but powerful prayer. Together we said, “Amen” and in that moment I knew I wasn’t alone. That boy was a steadfast reminder of God’s unfaltering presence and unconditional love. I am not alone. You are not alone. We are not alone. Even if you or I were the last soul on earth, we would still not be alone.

If you’ve read my last post you know that it is borderline absurd to believe that an eating disorder is about vomiting, starving, exercising, or any of the other abusive tactics one reaches for when struggling with an eating disorder. If extreme enough, these behaviors will eventually annihilate health and well-being, but isolation is the real killer. Eating disorders are an illness of silence, shame, and disconnection. Choosing to suffer alone with an eating disorder is often a choice that serves to validate the worthlessness and self-loathing those struggling often feel. Since my eating disorder has taken control my social anxiety has imploded affecting most of my relationships in one way or another and holding me back from making new ones. As I was standing on the platform waiting for my train to take me to my first day of treatment. The whispers had turned to screams, “You are alone. You are alone. You are alone.” I entered my first group therapy session that day where I was clearly not alone, but the voices in my head remained unfaltering. Despite the love and support from friends and family it took about two days before those voices lowered their volume and I truly started believing that I really was not fighting this battle alone.

If you’ve ever had an eating disorder I’m willing to bet that you have cried through a meal. If you’ve never had an eating disorder I’m willing to bet that crying through a meal sounds ridiculous. Well, damn was I glad to be surrounded by women who’ve shed tears over pizza, fig newtons, and birthday cake when I got to lunch on my second day of treatment and my fear of carbs and a bloated stomach got in between me and a slice of bread. Immediately the girls around me began encouraging and comforting me, thinking back on all the times a meal has sparked a similar emotional reaction in them. I really wasn’t alone. I was surrounded by people who knew exactly what I was feeling. It was then I realized how truly important the group therapy setting is in this recovery process. I had been isolated for so long I forgot what it truly felt like to be in genuine community with people. I am not alone. You are not alone. We are not alone. All you have to do is speak up and test the waters of vulnerability. 

Vulnerability Hangovers & Eating Disorder Myths

i have a lot of moments throughout my day where I feel genuine pride in myself for writing this blog and posting it on the internet for all my family and friends to read. i did it.  beat resistance. i faced my fear and conquered it. i chose vulnerability over hiding. what i don’t think i anticipated was how quickly and strongly resistance would fight back after my first victory. i thought writing and sharing my story would get a little easier after the first big leap, it didn’t. Along with moments filled with pride and resilience i also experience a lot of moments where i feel overcome with fear, anger, and regret about exposing a world that i’ve spent so much time and energy trying to keep a secret. i often find myself feeling unprotected, uncomfortable, and ashamed; wondering “why on earth would i share all of this with all of these people? what was i thinking?” i’ve come to the conclusion that  have what one might call a “vulnerability hangover” (If you’ve read any of Brene Brown’s books this term is not new to you and if you haven’t read any of her books i highly suggest you make that happen- you won’t regret it.)

All of the encouragement i’ve received from people who’ve read my story has been inexplicably incredible, overwhelming and encouraging at the same time. All of your words have meant so much to me and i will continue to hold them close as i officially begin my recovery process on Monday. i also want to apologize for my lack of or delay in response to comments and messages, it’s mostly because it’s hard for me to find the right words to respond and convey how i feel. Although i’ve chosen to share my story on the world wide web i’m still navigating what it’s like to be authentic with each of my friends and family members individually. It’s harder than i expected, but i’m learning to be patient with and trust myself, and when to push myself out of my comfort zone as well as when it’s important to stay in my comfort zone. i’m a firm believer that monumental growth exists outside of your comfort zone, but i believe there is a balance we must find in order to grow without straining and exhausting ourselves. I believe my self-doubt and feelings of shame, nakedness, and discomfort are simply growing pains. These questions of uncertainty, new ways of perceiving myself and relating to others are giving me a glimpse into what genuine transformation looks and feels like.

i started writing this post nearly two weeks ago and have been so overwhelmed with the intake process that when i tried to put my pen to my page i often found myself asking why i even started this blog in the first place. when i’m overwhelmed with doubt and fear i look at pictures of all the little ones that i have had the privilege to know and love, i return to my list of reasons for writing and blogging, and read back on all the comments and messages of love and encouragement i received. These small inspirations don’t always give me the words to write, but they do offer me hope and comfort that get me through the day.

One of those reasons i felt so convicted to write and publish this blog was to demystify the misconceptions and misunderstandings that are so widely believed about eating disorders.

Education, advocacy and awareness are vital to the narratives of those who struggle with any kind of mental illness. Conversations surrounding mental illness in our society

are something that we have been conditioned to be silent about. The product of that silence is deeper pain, isolation, and sometimes unbearable shame felt by those who struggle. As if those afflicted by mental illness don’t suffer enough, the social consequences of the stigma surrounding these illnesses are extremely dangerous to sufferers’ mental health and social well being. In order to recover it is imperative for people who struggle with mental illness to have friends, family, and a support system who understand what they’re going through and how to best support them. For people to truly understand it is paramount that those suffering speak openly and honestly about our struggle, and continue to create avenues for others to share their stories. Vulnerability has paved the way to healing, but we humans, families, and communities must have courage to choose that path.

Some of you may have seen a few articles floating around on the internet about debunking the myths of eating disorders that are perpetuated by the media and society. I truly cannot stress enough how harmful the stigma surrounding eating disorders is for those that are struggling and striving for recovery. Below i’ve created a condensed list of my own and have included how some of these stigmas and myths have directly impacted my story. Myths perpetuate stigma which in turn perpetuates silence. Silence perpetuates misunderstanding, invalidation, and leads to those suffering into deeper suffering. I know this because i remained silent about my struggle for years and many remain silent much longer than me. Silence leaves no room for vulnerability, empathy, connection and support needed to recover from these life threatening illnesses.

Myth #1/#2: Eating Disorders are a choice that are primarily about food.

So let me start by saying what eating disorders are not: they are not lifestyles. They are not choices. They are not a product of reading too much Vogue magazine. While the physical manifestation of these illnesses is in food, body image, and self worth measured by those two factors, at their core eating disorders are about starving hearts. Food restriction, over-indulgence, or purging is used to block out or numb painful feelings or emotions. They are not just a phase. They are not for attention. They are a big deal. An eating disorder can begin with the need to feel a sense of control and slowly escalate to the point of no control. Eating disorders are the product of complex biological, social, psychological and interpersonal causes and cannot be willed away. When someone tells someone with an eating disorder to “Just eat” or “Just stop eating” they are perpetuating the stigma that an eating disorder is a choice and primarily about food.. No one chooses to have an eating disorder. NO ONE. But, recovery requires choosing to give up old habits and survival patterns and pursue healthier coping mechanisms.

I have had many people say to me, “Just eat something.” They’ve said it with their hearts full of love, their minds full of concern, and with every intention of encouraging, supporting and loving me. They’ve said it with sadness and frustration, because to love and care for someone with an eating disorder is exhausting and hard. Eating disorders are extremely complex and hard to understand for those who have little to exposure, experience, or knowledge about them. No matter how, why or when they say these words, they are never helpful. These words dismiss the biological, social, psychological, and interpersonal factors that have led me to where i am in my struggle. Comments like this leave me feeling even more frustrated and and invalidated. If eating disorders were solved simply by just eating, I wouldn’t have anything to write about in this blog.

Myth #3: Only young, white, wealthy women are affected by eating disorders.

Although i fit the description above i found it important to include this one because this misconception is extremely harmful to those that don’t fit this description and struggle with an eating disorder. Although they are historically associated with young, white, women of privilege, eating disorders are an equal opportunity illness. They do not discriminate by gender, socioeconomic status, sexuality, race, or religion. Many men (young and old), older women, people of color, and those of low socioeconomic status are not identified as having an eating disorder because of this myth which results in lack of recognition, support, and treatment and leaves people within these populations silently suffering. Shame and isolation are deeply rooted in these populations affected by this fallacy. The intersection of race, ethnicity, culture, and sexual orientation with eating disorders is an area that is in desperate need of more research, awareness, and resources. If you’re interested in learning more about how people of color, people in the LGBT+ community, people of low socioeconomic status, men and older women are affected by eating disorders and how this myth detrimentally impacts their lives i encourage you to visit: 

http://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/diversity

Myth #4: You can tell someone has an eating disorder by their appearance.

You cannot tell if someone has an eating disorder by their appearance. You cannot tell if someone has an eating disorder by their appearance. i’ll say it one more time, you cannot tell if someone has an eating disorder by their appearance. The infrastructure of eating disorders is about undue influence of body weight and shape on self-worth, distortion of body image, and pervasive and destructive thoughts about ways to become thinner or to avoid gaining weight. A person below, above or at an average body weight may have all three of these features. In fact, individuals at a normal body weight often suffer more than those with an abnormal body weight because their symptoms are not validated by their appearance. The idea that body weight is an indicator of the presence of an eating disorder in someone’s life perpetuates invalidation, shame and silence.

This was my personal experience for a majority of the years that i have struggled with my eating disorder. During those first few years when i first began struggling with bulimia and self-harm only my self-harm was addressed because those scars were visible. Meanwhile bulimia was leaving even deeper wounds in places where no one could see. For the most part i remained at an average weight so no one asked and i never went out of my way to tell them. It wasn’t until my ED took a noticeable toll on my physical appearance that those around me began to notice and softly (or harshly) urge me to seek help. It wasn’t until my reflection in the mirror stared back at me, looking paler and sicker than i thought possible, that i felt validated in my illness. And even then there were still whispers of invalidation and doubt. Not until people started commenting on my weight loss did i really start to believe that this control i thought i had a grip on was withering away.

i don’t write this with intention to shame those who didn’t notice my eating disorder (I was pretty good at hiding parts of myself i didn’t want others to see.) i am writing this for those who are reading this and silently suffering and continue to suffer in silence because they are looking to their physical appearance to validate their struggle with this nasty illness. i am writing this for the concerned friend of someone who may be taking their exercise or diet resolutions a little too far. Just because they haven’t lost a significant amount of weight doesn’t mean their thoughts of being thin aren’t pervasive and destructive. Say something, ask them questions, be gentle and remember this is something they’re ashamed of and trying to keep hidden. If you are or you think someone you know is struggling there are many resources, articles and blogs out there that can help you figure out the best way to talk to them and help find them the support they need to begin healing their mind, body, and soul. i am writing this because eating disorders have the highest mortality rate and a concerningly lofty possibility of going undiagnosed and untreated. Please don’t hesitate to reach out to me. I’d love to hear your story. Silence is no longer an option. Your struggle, your pain, and your suffering are not defined by the shape of your body.

Myth #5: The main goal of recovery is to get someone to eat and maintain a healthy weight.

While re-nourishment is certainly a key player in the recovery process, it is not the only thing an individual must focus on to holistically heal from an eating disorder. Consumption of food and maintaining an average weight is not the only indicator of recovery. I maintained a relatively average weight for almost the better half of my battle with ED, but during that time i was by no means in recovery mode. Although thoughts and feelings of my eating disorder were never too far from my mind there were periods of time where i didn’t tangibly struggle with disordered eating behaviors. It was during these times that i found my battles with depression and anxiety to be more crippling. If I wasn’t struggling with my eating, i was struggling with self-harm. Sometimes, one or the other and sometimes both at the same time. Eating disorder diagnoses are typically accompanied by some other mental health diagnosis. Within my years of getting treatment for mental illness i’ve been diagnosed with major depressive disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, PTSD and Bipolar disorder. While i try not to grip too tightly onto these labels they have still each created implications when it comes to the recovery process of my eating disorder. The goal of eating disorder treatment is to treat the underlying cause of the disorder and implement safe and healthy coping strategies to deal with life’s stressors. Recovery is a multifaceted process that involves physical, emotional, psychological, physiological and spiritual acceptance, renewal, and healing.

I think it is important for anyone who is undergoing a recovery process of any kind to reflect what recovery means to them personally. For me, long term success looks like using healthy coping skills, cultivating self acceptance and compassion as well as developing a loving relationship with myself and my body. Included in that definition is also the ability to be present and mindful as I experience my day and the restoration of healthy relationships with friends and family. My hope for change as I anxiously anticipate treatment is to be present in my everyday life, continuing to face my fear of vulnerability and honesty, and to continue to increase my curiosity and awareness of myself and my emotions. All of this while eating well, treating my body with respect, and not looking to the weight or shape of my body to be the equivalent of my self-worth. To be strong not skinny. To be healthy not hungry. To be present not absent. To tell my story with bravery and listen to other’s stories with compassion and empathy. i have seen days where none of the above are possible. i have seen days where some of those things are possible some of the time. My goal is that sometimes will become more often, and more often will become most days, and most days will become most of the time.

i hope reading this has given you a better understanding of eating disorders and the way they impact the lives of those they’ve infected. i hope you move forward with more curiosity and desire to understand those you love that are inflicted with mental illness. i hope my words bring you courage to have difficult conversations and ask hard questions in search of clarity and understanding of what you or someone you love may be going through. i hope my words have encourage you to tell your story. Far too many have lived a life of suffering and died in silence. 

We need vulnerability. We need empathy. We need each other.


If you're interested in learning more about eating disorders i encourage you to visit the NEDA website: http://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/learn

Project Heal

i visited Philly for the first time ever with some friends during my senior year of high school. After three short days in the city i knew these streets would be home someday, i just wasn’t sure when or how. Fast forward four years later i am proud to say i’ve been a Philadelphian for over a year, attending Temple University as a social work major, and working as a nanny for some amazing families. i want to tell you that my love for this new and exhilarating place overshadowed the struggles and isolation i felt my first year living here, but i quickly learned that love is no easy feat, even if it’s just brick and mortar that’s stolen your heart. i’d be lying if i told you that my first year in the city was comfortable, easy, and painless; but i would also be lying if i told you that i wasn’t exactly where i was supposed to be. 

i was 13 years old the first time i stabbed the back of my throat with my fingertips. i can’t remember where i was or who i was with. i can only remember feeling the desperate need to empty myself of all of the garbage inside. i spent the next years intermittently resolving my fears and anxieties by starving them away, puking them up and bleeding them out; and remaining relatively silent about it. To my dismay, during my freshman year of high school the scars on my ankles and my wrists no longer went undetected by my family and friends. Those scars landed me my first therapy appointment, and many more after that. Despite the multiple therapists and inpatient experience i had, i never mentioned my disordered eating behaviors to a clinical professional until i was twenty years old. After spending nearly seven years in denial about the reality of my eating disorder and the impact it was having on my life emotionally, physically, spiritually and relationally i finally started to come to terms with the fact that i needed help and support that i simply could not provide for myself, no matter how hard i tried. i simply could not do it alone. The year before moving to Philly i started seeing a therapist and for the first time i addressed my eating disorder in therapy. My biggest set back during my time with that therapist was that i wasn’t going to therapy because it was something that i truly wanted to do for myself. i was going to therapy simply to please my loved ones that had grown increasingly concerned with my weight loss and my relationship with food that i could no longer hide. i still had not fully accepted my own reality and therefore could not put in the time and work that i needed to in order to move towards healing. Moving to Philadelphia gave me the space to process and fully understand where my life was and where it was headed if i continued to treat my mind, body and soul the way i had been. It gave me an opportunity to introspectively explore what healing meant to me and understand how to pursue that path wholeheartedly not just because loved ones were worried, but because it was what i wanted for myself. Unfortunately my denial followed me to Philly and it took almost a whole year until i truly and deeply began to accept the reality of my eating disorder and saw healing on the horizon. Intellectually i think i’ve always known the way my eating disorder eating disorder was affecting my life, but it wasn’t until July 2015 that i fully committed that reality to my heart.This past summer i made the choice to see a therapist and for the first time felt determined to seek true self knowledge and healing from this insidious disorder. The process of accepting myself and my eating disorder is one i am still definitely undergoing. i still have fleeting thoughts that tell me i’m not sick enough or thin enough to seek out intensive treatment, but i am slowly learning to recognize those voices as echos of my ED and how to acknowledge them and work through them without believing in them as truth. 

Summer came and went and although i was in therapy and doing my best to be honest with my therapist about my ED i still silently suffered when in company of most family and friends. Fall semester began and i had a full course load of classes staring me down that i believed i was ready for. It was the second week of school and i was just barely balancing my emotional well-being, working almost full time, relationships, prospective school work, and spending most of my day with my thoughts consumed by my ED. Over the past year i had gotten pretty good at this balancing act, but on the second day of the second week of the semester, as i was on my way to the gym around 6 am, i was attacked and mugged and just like that the show was over. He hit me with his bike and i fell backwards and hit the concrete hard. He got away with my phone, and fortunately i got away with only a few minor cuts and bruises, a sprained knee and a slight concussion. Unfortunately, my emotional wounds reached much deeper. After the attack I began experiencing extreme hyper vigilance and heightened levels of anxiety; to the point where I was unable to leave my house to attend class and I found it very difficult to concentrate on my school work. In between waves of anxiety, I experienced undertows of depression. Those tides dropped me off not too far from suicidal thoughts and left my thoughts drowned out with ideas of constant danger, death and self-loathing. Having experienced previous trauma, I believe this event compounded preexisting PTSD symptoms and made my self-injurious and disordered eating behaviors and thoughts exponentially worse. i spent the rest of September desperately trying to stay afloat and continue my balancing act, but i could no longer deny the fact that i was drowning. i withdrew from my classes and spoke to my therapist about seeking more wholesome and integrative support. Due to limitations with health insurance i didn’t have access to the specified and intensive treatment that i truly needed to heal from trauma and my eating disorder. In October i spent sometime at an intensive outpatient program for anxiety and depression. Ultimately this program did not fully address my needs, but at that point in time i didn’t have very many options so i attended and took away from it what i could.

Rewind to a few months prior to all of this i was surfing through Instagram checking out ED recovery blogs and accounts when i came across one called Project Heal, an account for a 501c nonprofit organization that raises fund for ED treatment for those who don’t have access to the care they need. Although i had been following them and reading stories of grant recipients for a month or two it hadn’t crossed my mind as a possibility until near the end of October. i had just quit attending the day treatment program for anxiety and depression i was attending and had no clue what was next or how i would get the support i needed to overcome my ED, when the thought crossed my mind to apply for a treatment grant through this organization. i immediately did some online research and discovered that the next application deadline was November 1st, about two weeks away. Applicants would be notified within two weeks if their applications were being further considered and notified by December 1st if they were chosen to receive a grant. i had never been so brutally honest about my struggle with both an eating disorder and self-harm as i was filling out that application. It was hands down one of the hardest things i’ve ever written. i also began to realize that not only did i need more integrative treatment and courage to be honest with my self but i also needed to reach out and be honest and vulnerable with those around me whom i trusted and loved. i began by sending the application to three key people in my life who i felt safe with for them to read over and give me their feedback. My application was submitted by October 28th and i got an email on November 3rd letting me know that i was being further considered for grant funding. 

In my ideal world, if i were to receive the grant, i would begin treatment in early December and go through mid-January and be released just in time to start my spring semester of school. i was eager to go back to school and put the past failed (as i perceived it at the time) semester behind me, so naturally i enrolled in a full course load and began imagining myself back in the classroom, swamped with papers and deadlines, but loving every minute of it. December 1st came and went and I didn’t hear from Project Heal. Hoping for the best but expecting the worst i began to come to terms with the reality that the treatment i felt that i needed to move toward healing and health might not be accessible to me at this time. Still unsure of what was next i kept my focus on the month ahead of me and making it through the holidays. One week later, i got a phone call from a woman named Kristina who immediately greeted me with a congratulations to let me know that i had been chosen to receive the grant. i couldn’t find the words to express the amount of gratitude i felt during the few minutes of that phone conversation. i also couldn’t find words to express all the emotions i was simultaneously feeling, that i wasn’t particularly proud of. A combination of gratitude, excitement, shock, fear and anxiety welled in my stomach and i began to cry. i had allowed fear and shame to control my narrative for too long and now it was my turn to write my story. The sense of self i felt i’d lost to my disorder began to reappear as whispers of courage and hope. i felt my body rise out of the water that had been suffocating me. This opportunity brought with it steady breath in my lungs, but not for long. One of the first things i learned about recovery is that it is a process of breakthroughs and setbacks, and sometimes they’re one in the same. 

i soon learned what i think i knew all along, if i was going to pursue treatment wholeheartedly i would have to take another semester off of school. This fact felt more earth shattering than it really was and my reality was that if i was going to successfully pursue a degree at all i would have to start first by caring for myself and addressing my emotional and physical well-being. After my initial excitement of receiving the grant began to dissipate, feelings of fear, anxiety, and even anger began to settle in. This was it. i was going to change my life, write a new and different chapter in my story, and leave behind my world of control and self-destruction that i did everything i could to protect and preserve for seven years. i was scared because this world was all i had known, experiencing the world through the lens of my ED was how i made sense of everything. Then there was the anger. There was a part of me, the critical part, the ED control panel, that was upset with me for being vulnerable, reaching out and making steps toward recovery. This cocktail of emotions is something i continue to wake up and grapple with everyday.

Since before i can remember i have known that i would spend my life helping, serving and loving others. For most of my life i believed that i could successfully care for and love others even with absence of compassion and love for myself. Although i found this to be true every once and while, it is not a sustainable way to be in the world effectively be a source of light and hope. The process of giving love must also be met with an act of receiving, or it is not wholesome and unconditional. Pursuing radical self-love is no longer an option if i truly wished to love those i come into contact with unconditionally. My desire to help and serve others has lead me to some amazing opportunities to serve others through ministry, education, and volunteering in the United States as well as developing countries, and has brought me to my current goal in life: to become a social worker.These past few years have taught me over and over again that i cannot effectively help and care for others if i don't do the same for myself. i currently work as a nanny for two families with little girls ages two and six. Through my darkest days over the past year, they have been my light, my hope, my drive. My desire for them and for all the children i come into contact with is for them to believe that their story matters, their voice is powerful, and for them to learn to love themselves unconditionally. So despite my fear, anger, and anxiety i’m going to continue to be hell-bent on loving myself. And on days that i can’t, because there will be days, i will look for the light in the eyes of those i love and have hope in their story, find power in their voice, and strength in their love. 

Lexi, August 2015

Stella, October 2015

~Nayyirah Waheed~